


Respite

by jenniferjun1per



Series: Rebelcaptain ficlets [5]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Post-Battle of Scarif, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10930947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenniferjun1per/pseuds/jenniferjun1per
Summary: How Cassian deals with tough missions.





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> For Cassian Week on tumblr

_ “He remains active to stave off the downtime that would plunge him into deeper reflection on some of his most extreme assignments.” _

_ \- from Rogue One: the Ultimate Visual Guide _

 

He’d lost track of how long he’d been running, sweat slick on his face, lungs burning, his legs screaming for him to stop. But he kept going, vines and branches whipping and brushing him as the purple-barked trees flashed by.

 

His mind could focus here, focus on the exertion, the heart pounding adrenaline, the measured breathing. He could focus on the path ahead of him, dodging fallen tree trunks and avoiding swampy areas, remembering which way led to more favorable running conditions and which way led deeper into intractable jungle.

 

He could time himself, he could make it a game, he could catalog the flora and fauna he encountered. He could track the movement of the clouds in the sky, he could listen to the sounds of the jungle, the wind whistling through the leaves of the trees.

 

He would do this after returning from a particularly brutal mission, after his duties were done, debriefs performed, he would escape out into the jungle. No one looked for him then, everyone knew where he was and what he was doing.

 

The pounding of his feet on the jungle floor would distract him from the pounding of blaster fire in his head, and the curious gazes of the animals he encountered would distract him from the lifeless eyes of the victims he left behind. The heady scent of the jungle orchids always overpowered the smell of blaster wounds, which seemed to linger in his nose long after he squeezed the trigger. His eyes would remain wide, focused, to close them meant risking whatever horror his mind could recreate on the backs of his eyelids.

 

Returning to base always resulted in a quick trip to the ‘fresher, and then falling exhausted into bed and into a sleep hopefully devoid of the demons that had been chasing him that day.

 

Now, after Scarif, a detour was always made into the mess, where Bodhi was ready with his sabacc deck, Chirrut sipped his tea with a grin, and Baze nodded off on his shoulder. Jyn would always save a spot for him on the bench beside her, beckon him over with a smile. She never cared much about his sweaty state, just pressed close to him, shoulder to shoulder, knee against knee, as Bodhi dealt the cards.


End file.
